The Death of a King
by xKuroShimox
Summary: I was listening to Christina Perri's 'The Lonely' when I came up with this. Pitch spends his final moments by the Pond that Jack died in and became a guardian. He is ready to die in the moons taunting light, when Jack joins him at his side. VERY emotional moment between Jack and Pitch and does contain a major Character death. You have been warned. Fluff


Hi guys, this is one of my first non smuts in a while. It is a short story because it's just made for emotion and affect. Please, if you like this story, fav and review it. This will be posted on my archive of our own page as well. You'll find my name on my profile description. Thanks

The Nightmare king looks down at his reflection in the pond's shimmering waters. The moon is beaming down around him, mocking him. Only a small circle of shadows protected himself from the moons rays now, and that had been fading quickly over the last couple of days. He feels a raindrop fall onto the open areas of his skin. Then another and another, until it is showering with the tears of the skies. But the sky probably wasn't crying for him. Why would anyone cry for him? He's just a lonely spirit, who's flame of life will be extinguished when the sun rises. His black hair becomes wet and plastered to his scalp and the rain slips over his face and onto his robes, eventually finishing their journey and touching the dewed grass. He grips his legs to his chest tighter. He doesn't want the cold, wet and the mocking of the moon to be his last moments. Closing his eyes, he looks up and allows more rain to spread over his face. Maybe one day he'll get the chance to experience the warmth of the sun. He was all too familiar with the cold of the rain. However, now a different cold has entered the air around him. The cold of winter and snow. He glances over to the Guardian of fun who was deceptive with his age. The Guardian walks over from the close proximity of the forest and kneels next to the darker spirit, staff glowing a comforting shade of blue. When no words are exchanged, the boy places his hands on the elders arm, dropping the loved staff to the floor, and gives him a look of sorrow and desperation of speech. They keep there eyes locked, just looking, admiring for the final time. The touch of winter spreads throughout the boogeyman and he welcomes it with open arms. "Until the sun rises." The words leave his dark lips, with neither sorrow nor joy, just acceptance. The younger forces back his tears and places his head on the Nightmare kings arm. He knows that the elder wouldn't want tears to stain his face, so he restrains. There are no words exchanged for the rest of the time. The circle of shadows decrease with every passing moment and the moons rays dim as the sun prepares to rise. The Guardians silk silver hair isn't sheltered by his blue hood, for respect of the one by his side, so has become soaked also. "There's nothing to help?" The silver haired spirit questions, beginning to get desperate. The shadows spirit shakes his head once in reply. Suddenly, he jolts slightly in pain as the process starts. The teen takes hold of the elders hand as he lies onto the dampened grass bed. "You've done everything you can." "If I knew this would've happened, I would've prevented the fight." The Guardian claims. "It doesn't matter now. There's just one last thing." The supposed villain assures. "Anything." The teen whispers. "Take care of yourself." And with that, an honest and loving smile blends into his grey face, something that has never been shown from him, at least not for a while. The lips of the two lock in a bonding kiss, full of love, forgiveness and farewell. As the passion and life drains, eventually stopping and the teen pulls away, slowly, and places his lovers head onto the lush grass. He stands, and the winter prince walks away from his nightmare king, the wind lifting him elegantly from his love and toward his place of stay. Without fear it will tip the balance for centuries to come. The only trace for civilians in the upcoming morning is the occasional grain of black, crystal sand, always accompanied by a small trail of frost, as they proceed with their busy and unsuspecting lives. The occasional child will spot the grains and recognize. Mixed emotions will be shared and, to the Nightmare kings surprise, more sorrow and tears will be shared among the children of the world, rather than joy and laughter. A death that only the children of the world can see and the mystery world becomes one empty.


End file.
